The One Before The Last
by alreadyinuse
Summary: Rated for language. RLSS have a long way to go before they can both find what it is they are looking for.
1. Prologue

The title comes from a poem written by Rupert Brooke, and you may find it in its entirety at the end of the chapter.

I dreamt I was in love again  
With the One Before the Last,  
And smiled to greet the pleasant pain  
Of that innocent young past.

--------------------------

Remus had been walking for an hour now, maybe two. He wasn't sure just how long, he only knew that the sudden cold he felt had finally pulled him out of his reverie. Even as he realised the foolishness of walking into the Dark Forest alone, his gaze came to rest on the path in front of him and the creature lying in wait there.

_How trite,_ Remus thought with a snort. At first glanced it appeared to be nothing more than a large, somewhat furry, rock. Noting how far he had walked coupled with the cold, Remus had been ready to turn around and leave the Pogrebin behind him, when it spoke.

_He will never love you_.

Remus froze; he knew that a Pogrebin would say something vicious and nasty but was unable to stop the pain its words caused regardless.

_He mocks you. He hates what you are._

Remus began to walk away then, trying to ignore the creature. Its words echoed his own thoughts only too closely; its words cut too close to his heart.

_Why do you love him, werewolf? Why love the one that is disgusted by your very existence?_

Desperately Remus tried to concentrate. Unable to block out the voice, he spoke aloud. "Pogrebin. They attempt to subdue their victim by filling them with a sense of hopelessness, continuing their litany until their prey collapses, at which point the Pogrebin attempts to devour them."

You thought things were different, that he was warming up to you as a friend – maybe more. Then he saw you as you truly are. He told them all that a monster was teaching them. He chased you away from the one place you love and away from him. He never wanted you and he never will.

Remus had stopped reciting long before the Pogrebin had finished. What the creature said was true. Snape hated him, hated what he was and Remus knew this. However, what the creature had said first was also true; he had hoped that Snape _was_ beginning to see him as something more than a monster. They had begun to speak on semi-friendly terms; Snape even smiling at him once. Remus had thought things were changing and he had been ready to act upon his long-term feelings for Snape. Snape's actions of the past week showed exactly how Snape viewed him, however, and it was not in any way friendly.

The Pogrebin was silently advancing to the spot where Remus now stood, lost in his thoughts and in his pain.

_Everytime he sees you, he sees a monster. Who would love a beast such as you? He will never feel anything for you but disgust and hatred. Why live if your love will never return your feelings? What's the point in going on with the pain in your heart? Let me help you…_

_What was the point, indeed,_ Remus thought. Again, the creature spoke the truth. Snape would never love him; Remus knew this. He also knew he would ever _not_ love Severus Snape, even now. There was so much good in the man that no one else ever saw, perhaps it was that no one else _but _Remus saw it. Saw how Snape risked so much as a double agent, saw how Snape protected the children he swore he hated, saw how Snape made the Wolfbanes potion every month for him even though it was hard and time consuming – and Snape was a man that hated wasting time. There was so much there, and yet Snape could not or would not see the same in him.

An uninterested glance toward the Pogrebin told Remus it was nearly _too_ close now, and if he wanted to leave now would be the perfect time to do so. He did not move, and watched the creature slowly creep closer. For once in his life, he considered finally giving in to the despair and hopelessness that floated at the edge; letting it overwhelm and consume him. He very well would have at that moment, had a laugh not rang out through the tops of the trees. As it were, the laughter was enough to snap Remus out of his self-pity long enough to take out his wand.

He was angry now. Angry with himself, angry at the creature, angry with Snape. Anger that was a long time in coming and nearly overwhelming in its suddenness and depth. Anger fueled his emotions and his words as he pointed his wand at the Pogrebin. "Stupefy!"

The spell at the desired effect of stopping the Pogrebin, but what surprised Remus was the not-so-faint thud he heard from several feet _behind_ the creature. Although he felt he had had enough of the forest and its inhabitants tonight, he would not be able to leave without knowing if his spell had hit someone or something else, possibly injuring them.

Cautiously stepping around the now silent stone Remus look around, hoping to spot what had fallen. Three trees away from where he had stood, he found what he was looking for and wished he hadn't. Lying at the base of the tree was a woman with silver hair, brown doe breeches, and a white tunic. Around her head there was a wreath made of silver, nearly matching the color of her hair but shining as through a light of its own. A Samodivi. Sighing, he kneeled beside her and took her wrist before speaking softly.

"Madam?"

The Samodivi opened her eyes immediately, in the same movement yanking her hand away and standing. Remus followed suit, knowing his night was not going to be improving any time soon.

"You dare cast a spell at me, wizard?"

"I did not mean to attack you, Samodivi. I merely meant to stupefy the Pogrebin that meant to attack me…"

"That Pogrebin was my pet."

_Of course,_ Remus thought wryly.

"He would not have made to attack you, as you put it, if you weren't in my way. The forest is not a safe place for one as weak as you are; my pet merely fed off your self-loathing. You cannot blame him for that, the fault is yours."

"I apologise, Samodivi."

"I do not want your apologies, wizard. The words of your kind mean nothing to me. You're a foolish race, and you will pay for attacking me." She spoke with a quiet malice that sent cold down Remus' spine, a reaction that sparked his anger to life again. Never had he been quick to anger, but this had not been a good week for Remus Lupin.

"I assure you I did not mean to attack you, Madam. Had I wished to harm you, I would have taken your wreath and made you my slave." Remus thought after that perhaps that had not been the wisest thing to say, reminding the Samodivi of her one weakness, but it was the truth. Had he taken her wreath she would be his to control, although she would have made both of their lives living hell.

Apparently however, she meant to do just that anyway. Lips curled in disgust, she nodded. "Be that as it may, I concede you your point, wizard. You did indeed have the chance to enslave me, and for whatever reason you did not. For that, I will do this for you. You will not die this night, wizard-wolf." Remus noted the wind had picked up, no doubt called upon by the tree nymph in front of him. "Hear this then: The Pogrebin spoke only the truth to you, and so only the truth will harm you. The one you love always will you love, and miserable will you always be. Not only in the matters of heart, but through all you love him with - your entire being will be destroyed. Your only salvation will be to have him love you in return, a pure, full, true love." The Samodivi laughed before fading, but Remus was too shocked to reply. Although he doubted her curse was affecting him yet, the pain in his heart heavier than it had been yet that night.

--------

I dreamt I was in love again  
With the One Before the Last,  
And smiled to greet the pleasant pain  
Of that innocent young past.

But I jumped to feel how sharp had been  
The pain when it did live,  
How the faded dreams of Nineteen-ten  
Were Hell in Nineteen-five.

The boy's woe was as keen and clear,  
The boy's love just as true,  
And the One Before the Last, my dear,  
Hurt quite as much as you.

Sickly I pondered how the lover  
Wrongs the unanswering tomb,  
And sentimentalizes over  
What earned a better doom.

Gently he tombs the poor dim last time,  
Strews pinkish dust above,  
And sighs, "The dear dead boyish pastime!  
But this -- ah, God! -- is Love!"

-- Better oblivion hide dead true loves,  
Better the night enfold,  
Than men, to eke the praise of new loves,  
Should lie about the old!

Oh! bitter thoughts I had in plenty.  
But here's the worst of it --  
I shall forget, in Nineteen-twenty,  
You ever hurt abit!

Rupert Brooke


	2. Chapter One

The title comes from a poem written by Rupert Brooke, and you may find it in its entirety at the end of chapter one.

I dreamt I was in love again  
With the One Before the Last,  
And smiled to greet the pleasant pain  
Of that innocent young past.

----------------

Some things you forget, only to have the memory called up by a sudden smell or place, the resulting nostalgia being either happy or sad, sometimes both. Some things you will never remember, the details lost to the ravages of time or old age.

Other things, however, you will never forget no matter how hard you try nor how old you get.

A lifetime had passed; a war had been fought and arguably won. Through the past four years, Remus Lupin had made it through his day to day routine by merely existing, although the pain the Samodivi had promised was always there. The edge would come when he would see Snape; the pain then was tenfold with every sneer and sarcastic barb. Remus had long given up hope of ever having Snape as anything more than an enemy on the same side, and now that the war was over, he didn't even have to contend with that.

He had stayed long enough to make sure he was not needed, and then he sold what little he had - the cottage in Hogsmeade and a few miscellaneous items – and left. He knew those few that might miss him had other things and other people to keep them busy, and that the one he would miss wouldn't even notice he was gone.

Still, he bid a silent farewell before departing for the last time.

------------------

Severus Snape knew that he was many things, none of which were very flattering. It was only a recent discovery to find himself a fool as well. He would never be able to answer fully as to why he had cost Remus his job when he did, he only knew that given the same circumstances at the same time, he would do so again. It was not that he hated the Professor, in a rare moment of utter truth, Snape might have admitted to a grudging amount of like for him, but Snape could not afford to like _anyone._

For so long he had lived two lives, walking a delicate balance to maintain each role and all that was demanded of him for such. Not only did he have no time to allow a friendship with anyone, but doing so would have been foolish and a weakness. He could afford neither, but he almost had.

Remus had seemed sincere in his surprising apology four years prior, and Snape had wanted to believe him. Had, in fact, believed him most of that year, right up to Remus' final night at the castle. The night that Sirius Black had returned as a friend to Remus, when Remus had turned his back to Snape and sided with Black. A lesser man might have called his actions jealousy, but Snape refused to label it such.

The one thing that surprised Snape above all was how he felt when he saw Remus after his transformation. He thought he would be disgusted, shocked, afraid. He was none of those things, except perhaps afraid, but not for the reasons he had thought. Instead, he had felt compassion and pity, and it angered and frightened him. He could not care for someone, not given what he had to do, and certainly not someone that could turn his back on him faster than one could wink.

So he did what he knew would not only protect himself, but Remus as well. He made sure the man would be no where near him again.

For the most part, he hadn't been, except for Order meetings, and even then Remus would nod an acknowledgment and promptly ignore him. This did not bode well with Snape, and in turn, he would make sure to be even more nastier than usual when speaking to the werewolf, telling himself he was glad to see the glimmer of pain before it was hidden.

Still, Snape would make the potion every month for him and send someone else to carry it. _How could Remus not know?_ Snape often wondered.

Wondered, and did nothing.

Now the war was over, and Remus was leaving. He knew Remus would not say goodbye to him, nor he to Remus. That was it, then. He did not know were Remus was going and he told himself more than once he did not care. If anyone noticed the Potions Master was more angry and bitter than normal, they did not dare mention it.

--------------

Eeek. Short chapter. -meh-


	3. Chapter Two

The title comes from a poem written by Rupert Brooke, and you may find it in its entirety at the end of chapter one.

I dreamt I was in love again  
With the One Before the Last,  
And smiled to greet the pleasant pain  
Of that innocent young past.

----------------

Summer was coming; the days were warmer and longer now. Warmer days being a good thing for Remus, his body handled it better than the cold. It was warmer here than it would be at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts, Dumbledore, Harry, Severus.

They were all hours behind him now, and Remus was where he wanted to be, or so he told himself. The Sleat Peninsula on the Southern part of Isle of Skye. Tarskavaig. _Home_. He had astonishing views of the bay, the coast, the Cuillins. A small Muggle village where he would be safe from the prejudice that followed him in the Wizarding World, where he could write in peace; a small, peaceful village that contained the history he needed to write his book.

He stood on the shore near what was left of the ruined castle of Dunsgiath, sketching and relaxing in the afternoon sun. For almost four months, his daily routine had consisted of nothing more than waking and dressing, eating and then either speaking to local townsfolk or coming to the ruins to sketch or write. It was an idyllic life, and Remus was enjoying every slow moment of it.

Noting the time by way of the sun, Remus folded up his notepads and picked up his sack. It was one week to the day before the next full moon, meaning his first bottle of Wolfbanes would be coming via delivery. The last month the poor chap that had brought it had been terrified out of his wits by Remus' visiting neighbour, who had stopped by while Remus was out. It would be best if he were there this time, Remus thought with a chuckle.

It was not very far of a walk, and Remus enjoyed the afternoon wind on his face. It was still brisk; the hint of summer had not found its way into the breeze yet. By the time he reached his small yard, his face had been reddened by the same wind that had tousled his hair. Feeling better now than he had in years, Remus opened his door and stepped into the welcome way with a smile on his face.

"Lupin," Snape announced his presence with a sneer and a raised brow, his manner given no betrayal to the thoughts that had surfaced upon sight of Remus. Snape would have willingly cut his tongue out before he gave voice to any of those thoughts, but he played them out in his mind. _How good… how **healthy** Remus looks. How happy he seemed when he first came in._

And it was true. Although still far from as healthy as most would have liked to see him, Remus did look better now than he had in a long time. His face seemed a bit fuller under the redness, his tan shirt complimenting his eyes and hair perfectly.

"Severus." Remus nodded his head in greeting, his mind too full of betraying thoughts. _Why was Snape here? _Just being close to the man made Remus' heart ache, and he shivered, suddenly longing to escape somewhere, anywhere. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Your potion," clipped Snape. "Although you have apparently forgone your responsibilities, I do have not such pleasure."

Remus' head snapped up at the underlying bite to Snape's words. Did he dare judge Remus for leaving? "I have not forgotten about the potion, I only assumed you would send Thomas again, as you have in the past."

Snape snorted at this. "Thomas refuses to come anymore. It was enough he had to deliver to the likes of you, but apparently your neighbour cursed him last month."

Remus could not help himself, and ignoring Snape's crueller words, he started to laugh. "She did indeed curse him, although it's not quite what you or I would consider a 'curse.' This is a Muggle village, in case you failed to notice. Thomas incurred the wrath of Brìghde when he trampled through her garden and kicked her fence." Still chuckling at the memory, Remus continued. "Although she had a few choice words for him when she found him here, there was none that would have done more than hurt his pride, and it was no less than he deserved."

"How very typical of you Lupin. People go out of their way to help you, someone who barely deserves it in the first place, and you mock them and make their task harder."

Trying not to wince, Remus shrugged and dropped his sack on the couch. "As flattered as I am you still care enough to be cruel, you can save your trap. I've spent the past four months in peace without having to listen to the _likes of you _and I'd just as soon go back to doing so."

Outwardly, Snape showed no signs of Remus' words affecting him. However on a hidden level, it was shocking and somewhat painful to have his own words thrown back at him, and by Remus Lupin of all people. "The likes of me? How very clever of you Lupin. And what, pray tell, would the likes of _me _be? The one, the only one, who has the ability to keep everyone around you safe, giving up my time and energy to do so, for someone less than deserving?"

"What are the likes of you? Bitter, cruel, rude, sarcastic, and painful. I can go on if you would prefer? I'm sure none of the words would come as a shock to you." Remus was no less surprised by his words than Severus probably was, no doubt even more so, but the painful shock of seeing the man and without warning had set him on edge, and let the wolf's temper out a little easier than Remus would have liked.

Stung, Snape tried not to show it. Where had this side of Lupin been hiding? What, exactly, had brought it out? "If anyone sounds bitter, Lupin, I believe you would take that crown."

"Imagine that, Severus. Bitter over you? Bitterness over your betrayal and cruelty? I suppose it's really not that much of a stretch of the imagination when one thinks about it, is it?"

Snape stood his ground as Remus took a step toward him; although when he would think about it later he realised that was in part due to being entirely too shocked to move. "Your betrayal? Don't you think that a year of false friendship and an about face after lying would could as more a betrayal?"

"False friendship? If you think I would have put up with you for any reason other than I had actually liked you, you are sorely mistaken," Remus replied with a quiet edge.

Snape had little idea how to reply to that, even if he had wanted to. Lupin's use of past term hurt him more than he cared to think about. Never, even when he was at his angriest with the werewolf, did he ever consider this. Foolish for he should have realised what his actions would cause. Therefore, he said nothing, regretting the impulse that had brought him here in the first place. He knew he had done what was best for both of them, but he could not expect Remus to understand that. He shoved the potion at Lupin, and walked out the door.


End file.
